To Be at Peace
by kittyrunner
Summary: Dumbledore and Harry find their peace at King's Cross. This is my version of what I would have liked to see happen in Chapter 35 of Deathly Hallows. Warning: Book 7 spoilers.


**A/N**: While I was working on my other HP fanfic, I was inspired to write this little one-shot to play out the way in which I wanted the "King's Cross" chapter from _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_ to have resolved. Although I do like the author's version, according to my ideals, I would have enjoyed an additional moment between Harry and his mentor, the wonderful Albus Dumbledore. I hoped to make this seem within canon, but I have given it a "K+" rating for moments of severe angst and sappiness. Also, there are Book 7 spoilers. All sections in italics are taken directly from JK Rowling's novel. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:**All Harry Potter characters and settings belong to JK Rowling and I cannot take credit for any of it.

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To Be at Peace

"_I've got to go back, haven't I?" _

_"That is up to you." _

_"I've got a choice?" _

_"Oh yes." Dumbledore smiled at him. "We are in King's Cross, you say? I think that if you decided not to go back, you would be able to…let's say…board a train." _

_"And where would it take me?" _

_"On," said Dumbledore simply. _

_Silence again. _

_"Voldemort's got the Elder Wand." _

_"True. Voldemort has the Elder Wand." _

_"But you want me to go back?" _

_"I think," said Dumbledore, "that if you choose to return, there is a chance that he may be finished for good. I cannot promise it. But I know this, Harry, that you have less to fear from returning here than he does." _

_Harry glanced again at the raw-looking thing that trembled and choked in the shadow beneath the distant chair. _

_"Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living, and, above all, those who live without love. By returning, you may ensure that fewer souls are maimed, fewer families are torn apart. If that seems to you a worthy goal, then we say good-bye for the present." _

_Harry nodded and sighed. Leaving this place would not be nearly as hard as walking into the forest had been, but it was warm and light and peaceful here, and he knew that he was heading back to pain and the fear of more loss. He stood up, and Dumbledore did the same, and they looked for a long moment into each other's faces._

"I really miss you, sir," Harry said, in a very choked voice. Seeing Dumbledore here, whole and untarnished, wise and wonderful, had awoken the stinging pain of loss within him. Harry felt his former sense of bereavement swell up inside him and increase tenfold at the thought that this would be the last time he'd interact with his mentor.

Dumbledore must have understood, for his eyes misted over, his snowy brow creased in apparent pain and sadness. He closed the distance between the two of them and pulled Harry into his arms.

Harry burrowed his face into his shoulder and let the tears come, uninhibited and pure, something which he had not been free to do since the Headmaster's funeral. Dumbledore felt warm and solid against him, so real. For the first time in many months, he felt safe.

Dumbledore's voice carried to his ears, warm and soothing. "I've missed you too, Harry. I cannot tell you how much I regretted leaving you, knowing the struggles that lay ahead. I tried my very best to prepare you."

"You did good," Harry whispered. He didn't know how to convey to Dumbledore how important he was to him, not just for his wisdom, but for his kindness and understanding. "I wish you had been there with me."

He drove on heedlessly, needing to express what had been eating him from the inside out for the majority of the year. His voice began to crack.

"It was so hard, seeing you die on that tower, not being able to say goodbye. And then having to go after the Horcruxes alone, without you there beside me, without you offering comfort and advice." Harry cried hard, on the verge of sobbing openly. And he did not feel ashamed of it. If there were any moments in his life where it seemed appropriate to cry, this was definitely one of them.

"Shh, my boy," Dumbledore murmured. "I know, I know."

Harry could feel Dumbledore's body tremble a bit. He realized that Dumbledore must have started crying again. His arms, which were clasped around Harry, securing him to his chest, quivered against Harry's back. Harry started sobbing in earnest.

"Sir, there were just so many things I had wanted to tell you before that night, how I never really th-thanked you enough, how I am so s-sorry for ever doubting you, for giving you so much trouble and worry throughout these years, for you h-having to die for me!" Harry's voice grew louder and throatier with each word.

"It was my time, dear boy. We rarely can choose the exact when's and how's of our own deaths. It just happens, Harry. And here you are apologizing to me, when it is I who caused so much pain and hardship in your life." Dumbledore's voice sounded so sad, so weary, so pained, and Harry couldn't bear to hear it.

"But I forgive you! You did what you thought was best. I would not have made it this far without all of your interventions!"

Dumbledore sighed heavily, and Harry felt Dumbledore's rib cage rise and fall with the air flowing through his lungs, as though he were organic and alive, as he had been on earth. "I wished all your life that you would not have to bear such a heavy and terrible burden. To see such a sweet, noble, wonderful boy suffer so much was agony for me, Harry. Furthermore, it was torture for me to bear the knowledge that you had to be a martyr at some point in time."

"But you were the martyr, sir. You died on top of that tower and I wanted to help you. I wanted to stop it from happening!" Harry snuffled loudly and his voice grew very tight. "You were the best mentor ever, and I didn't know if you knew that."

"I know that you cared, Harry. How could you not, with that big heart of yours?"

Harry plowed on, a strong need to tell Dumbledore all that he wanted to say, but had never had the chance to utter it. If he had known that Dumbledore was going to die, he would have made more effort to strengthen their bond on earth. "I didn't know," he said. "I didn't know so much about you. At Godric's Hollow, I imagined that you were there beside me, as we both visited our families."

Dumbledore made a soft, soothing sound, patting Harry on the back as he continued to hold him tightly. Harry continued, though.

"And every time something horrible would happen, I could see you being cursed and falling off the tower all over again, my worst memory ever."

"Oh, Harry. I never wanted you to see that. Even in my last moments, I felt not only pity for Draco Malfoy and for Severus, but for you, paralyzed and helpless, forced to watch my demise. I only didn't want you to interfere with Mr. Malfoy, Severus, and myself. I had hoped that I wouldn't have to die right there, in front of you."

Harry nodded into Dumbledore's shoulder. He suddenly felt a deep sense of shame for ever doubting Dumbledore's character. Despite Dumbledore's flaws, he was still the greatest wizard and the greatest man that he had ever known.

He recalled Elphias Doge's words, "_Let nothing tarnish your memories of Albus Dumbledore_!" and what Hagrid had said, nearly every year, "_Great man, Dumbledore, great man_."

Harry suddenly felt a very painful and urgent need to apologize to his Headmaster.

"All of those terrible things that Rita Skeeter wrote about you, all of those half-truths that don't really represent you," Harry began, as he continued to rest the side of his head upon Dumbledore's shoulder. "I shouldn't have believed them at all. And I was stupid enough to consider them at first. I was so wrong and-and thick, to not heed all of the things Hermione and the others told me about you. I thought I knew you. But she was right. I wasn't angry or upset about Rita's biased words, but that you never told me those things yourself. But I know now why you didn't and I'm not upset anymore."

He took a deep breath, shame flooding him again. "Except that I was an awful friend to you, sir, not just this past year but in previous times as well. You always tried to be so good, and I was just so horrible. I'm so sorry for taking you for granted!"

"You did not, Harry," Dumbledore said firmly. "You did not at all. You have always been loyal to me, a worthy friend, even if you did not recognize the fact. After all you have been through, I would expect no less than a considerable amount of hurt and resentment on your part. But even with all that newly-revealed dark history and all of the information that I kept from you in order to shape you to save the wizarding world, you still say that you don't despise me. That makes you an extraordinary friend, Harry, and certainly the most understanding one I have ever been honored to have."

But Harry's voice hitched. "I'm so sorry!"

He suddenly felt the world tip slightly, first one way, then the other. The seats and clean railroad tracks moved a couple of inches up and then down, like a see-saw. He realized that this was because Dumbledore was gently rocking him.

Was this what it felt like to be loved? To be embraced and comforted by a father?

Harry gradually quieted. It felt good to forgive Dumbledore and then to be forgiven for his own faults in return. He rested there, merely enjoying the comfort of Dumbledore's warm, soothing embrace. Dumbledore gently drew Harry away from him, holding him out at arm's length. He tenderly wiped away all of the tears from Harry's face, his thumb tracing each wet track.

"You needed a good cry, didn't you my boy?"

Harry nodded, feeling a slight wave of embarrassment flush over him. Dumbledore hastened to smile reassuringly at him, squeezing his shoulder.

"It is quite understandable, Harry. I needed one too."

The young man sniffled and felt the need to ask Dumbledore something else, something that he was so desperate to have confirmed, something that had been eating away at him for several months. He had to find out. Though he suspected the answer, he needed to hear Dumbledore say it. He tried to summon his voice to utter his request, choked, and then tried again. He ended up blurting it out quickly and without meeting Dumbledore's eyes.

"Sir, Hermione had told me a few months ago that you loved me. Is that true?"

Dumbledore's face seemed to tighten instantly with some intense emotion. He drew in a sharp breath, almost like a gasp. "Oh Harry, of course it is true."

And then Harry was once more pressed tight against Dumbledore's chest, the soft beard beneath his cheek. Dumbledore rested his own weathered cheek upon Harry's head and spoke into his hair. "I was reluctant to get too close to you all those years, knowing that it would make my affection for you more painful for me. Furthermore, this past year, I couldn't bear to have you grow too attached to me, knowing that I was to die soon. I did not want to cause you even more distress at my death."

Dumbledore's voice grew stronger and Harry knew that his words were fervent and true. "I have always loved you and cared about you, for a very long time. That truth has never changed, and nor will it ever. I cannot tell you how much you mean to me, how you have always been like a son."

Harry felt as though his heart would burst with happiness. A warm feeling spread throughout all of his body and he half-sobbed in relief. "And I love you too, Headmaster," he said brokenly. It felt good to voice it, to fully acknowledge it.

They stood there for a very long time, leaning on each other, occasionally crying. Dumbledore steadily rubbed Harry's back and Harry fisted the back of Dumbledore's robes, holding on desperately. Both seemed to soak in every last ounce of relief and love from one another. Harry felt as though he had acquired enough affection from Dumbledore to last him the rest of his life. Dumbledore felt as though he had enough from Harry to last him through eternity.

Harry finally broke away from Dumbledore, his vision so blurry from his tears that he could hardly see his Headmaster. He clutched a bit of the old wizard's midnight blue sleeve in his hand, massaging the fabric in his fist, wanting to remember the little things about Dumbledore, like his style of wardrobe, the strength and tenderness in the man's father-like embrace, the twinkly blue eyes like spiral galaxies of light and hope.

Dumbledore gently extricated Harry's hand and pressed it, cradling it within his own, reverently, kindly. Harry clung to it, desperate to establish one last sense of touch, some sort of realness to Dumbledore before Harry let go and had to return to the land of the living, to pain, hardship, and mourning.

"I wish you could come back with me. You are sorely missed…not just by me, but by everyone who believes in the good in the world."

"Ah, dear boy, thank you for your endearing words. You have no idea how much it warms me to hear you speak such things. But I must assure you that there is plenty of good in the world. It is all around you, embedded within humankind. You are a talented Seeker, Harry. It should not take much effort for you to find it. And even if I could return, I wouldn't. I am meant to be here now. My life on earth is over and it would not be fair for me to reclaim it," Dumbledore said soberly. "I do wish I could have spent more time with you; however, you must understand that you can always carry me in your heart, as I continue to keep you in mine. This is how our friends and loved ones can never truly be apart from us."

Harry smiled in understanding and in gratitude, continuing to marvel at his mentor's wisdom, his encouragement, and his love for all people.

"I hope--" he began, trying to find the right words to say. "I hope…you're at peace, sir."

Dumbledore gazed at Harry, the utmost love and affection shining in his eyes. "I am, my dear boy. I am now, thanks to you."

And Harry was graced with the comforting image of Dumbledore's beatific smile and twinkling eyes, serene and adoring. A phoenix's joyful cry could be heard in the distance

_"Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?" _

_Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure. _

_"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?"_

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A/N:** **Well, I hope you liked it. Thank you for reading! This was the result of 48 hours of inspired and intense writing. Please review, I am very curious as to what your feelings of this scenario are and any constructive criticism is welcome as well. Also, be sure to let me know if you think this is too sappy. I need to know when I go overboard! Thanks, and take care! Have a Happy Halloween!**

**Kittyrunner**


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